Satanic Sisters in Snowflake Village
by Moonfairyhime
Summary: Mix Sam and Dean with five Satanic Nuns. Mix in a Sister that refuses to die. Add a few bad puns. Shake until stirred.


Title: Satanic Sisters in Snowflake Village  
Author: moonfairyhime  
Rating: T, minor swearing  
Disclaimer: I don't own _Supernatural_.  
Summary: Mix Sam and Dean with five Satanic Nuns. Mix in a Sister that refuses to die. Add a few bad puns. Shake until stirred.  
Feedback: I'd really appreciate it.  
Author's Notes and Warnings: There are some really bad puns in this fic. A handful of lines dealing with religion, and few lines that some may find offensive. The Latin that Sam speaks is the Lord's Prayer. A huge hug and kiss go out to litashields and okibibanshi for their wonderful beta-ing. The poem that Sam quotes is Edgar Allen Poe's "Eldorado".

* * *

"So, Sammy?"

In the six months that Sam had been traveling with Dean, he had learned to dread that tone of voice. "Yes, Dean?"

"A lawyer?" Dean sounded incredulous. "You wanted to escape our life and become something more evil than a demon."

Sam shrugged. "Chicks dig a guy in a suit."

Dean nodded, taking that at face value. "Where are we heading, Sam?"

Sam blinked as he forced his brain to keep up with his older brother. "_Over the Mountains, Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride, If you seek for Eldorado_."

"Nice, Sammy, but I'm not looking for El Dorado, I'm trying to figure out where the hell you have us going."

"Poetry is lost on you."

Dean looked indignant. "No it's not."

"Who wrote it?"

"Edgar Allen Poe. Ha! Now, where are we going?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Where else? Smalltown, USA."

"You know, Sam, I remember a time when I didn't have extract information from you like this."

Sam grabbed a map. "When we come upon the next exit, turn off. We're heading for Snowflake Village."

Dean actually cringed at the name. "That's so normal and cutesy that it _hurts_. What's going on there?"

Sam folded the map and shook his head. "Two days ago, five people were found dead in the local church."

Dean nodded, seemingly accepting that it was something supernatural, however, he decided to play devil's advocate. "Maybe it was a mass heart attack or something?"

"The deaths were all kids; ages five to twelve. The coroner ruled their deaths an accident, playing where they shouldn't have been playing. He said that the kids fell from where some old floorboard broke, but get this: there's no sign of trauma on any of the bodies. The only mark on the body was a small cross cut into the ulnar artery."

"So the kids bled to death?"

Sam nodded. "The only thing is the crosses cut into the arms were maybe ten centimeters and the kids bled out in about six minutes. There's more though: this is the fifth time this type of killing has occurred. Seems like every ten years, five children go missing, only to be found dead the next day."

Dean nodded. "It definitely sounds like our gig."

"Dean, you're going to pass up the exit."

Dean just grinned, crossed over three lanes of traffic and made the exit, tires squealing and Sam swearing.

Snowflake Village was pretty much like every small town in America. It had one library, one grocery store, five bars, two motels, and a church. In the effort of trying to get out of town before Dean completely freaked out because of how normal the town was, their first stop was the church.

"Man, I don't believe how normal this town feels. Looks like something from a postcard," Dean said, frowning.

Sam stopped in front of the church. He murmured a non-committal sound to Dean and continued to stare at it.

Dean, who was a few paces ahead of Sam, stopped and turned around. "What is it, Sammy?"

Sam frowned and shook his head. "This place... it doesn't feel right."

"Does it feel left then?"

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. "No. Churches have this peaceful, warm feeling. They feel _safe_. This place? It feels cold... dark."

"Let me get this straight, you're currently dialing in on the psychic network?"

Sam sighed. "I think so. All I know is that this place feels wrong. It doesn't feel like a church."

"What does it feel like then?"

Sam ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know how to describe it. Just be careful, Dean."

When Dean entered the church, he tried to ignore the fact that Sam looked like a particularly skittish rabbit on a bad day. After about another ten steps, Dean turned around and glared at his brother. "Sam, if you're going to be this skittish, go wait in the car."

Sam frowned mulishly but stayed and Dean was glad to see Sam relax a little. The investigated the sanctuary and Sam almost jumped out of his skin when two nuns walked over to them and introduced themselves as Sisters Charity and Chastity. Dean grinned at them and introduced himself and Sam, but frowned when Sam apparently zoned out. Dean lightly smacked his brother on the back of the head to alert Sam that Dean and the nuns were leaving the sanctuary and going to the Father's office.

The nuns smiled sweetly when Sam and Dean sat down in chairs. Charity smiled warmly at Sam. "What can we do for you two?"

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, not at all liking the vibes he felt from the pair of women. He looked to Dean to continue the conversation as he tried to sort out whatever was going on in his head. Dean sighed and was ready to pull out a fake badge when Chastity smiled at Dean. "Let me guess, you boys are curious about the deaths of those poor young Lambs?"

Sam and Dean both started and Chastity laughed. "Oh, we're not mad. We get a lot of questions dealing with those deaths. We're used to answering questions."

Dean smiled. "This place seems so calming and soothing, hard to believe that children could die in a place like this."

Charity smiled. "It is a pity, isn't it?"

Sam looked up for the first time in the conversation. "Who found their bodies?"

Chastity smiled. "Well, the quiet one does speak. Unfortunately, it was Sister Charity and I. We got the shock of our lives, walking down the steps and seeing those poor dead children."

Dean nodded. "Where did they fall?"

Charity's smile faltered for a minute and she exchanged a glance with Chastity. "Excuse me?"

Dean grinned to himself. It was always a great thing to catch someone lying in the act. "In the newspaper, it said that the children fell to their deaths. From what floor did they fall from and where did they land?"

Chastity laughed. It reminded the brothers of nails on a chalkboard. "Oh, they fell from the library. The floor has been fixed, though."

"That was a pretty quick fix," Dean said.

"Oh, the carpenters around here know how important our church is. The fixed it pretty quickly."

Dean nodded. "If you'll excuse us, Sammy and I are going to head back to the sanctuary. Maybe have a little talk."

Charity and Chastity must have decided that it would be a bad idea to let Sam and Dean wander around the church as they threw the desk at Sam and Dean. Sam cursed as he and Dean leaped out of the chairs they had been sitting on. Some days, it was a pain always being right. He was really going to have to start trusting his sixth sense a little bit more. Charity swung the first thing she grabbed at Sam, which happened to be the Father's nine iron golf club. Sam ducked as Chastity grabbed a five iron and swung it at Dean.

"Why are there golf clubs in a Father's office?"

"He plays golf. Not very well. His last score on eighteen holes was a ninety-five."

"How the hell do you know that?" Dean seemed genuinely interested in how Sam knew that. When Sam didn't respond, Dean groaned. "You get a premonition about a Father who can't play golf, but you didn't get warned of nuns trying to bash our heads in with golf clubs. That's great, Sammy."

Sam ignored Dean, trying to figure out how to stop Charity from hurting him. She was a woman of God, and Sam really didn't want to make Him any angrier than he already had. Sam also had a thing for not hitting women, and hitting someone who was old enough to be his grandmother was a big no-no in Sam's moral book.

Dean, on the other hand, had compromised any morals he had a very long time ago and had no trouble ripping the golf club out of Chastity's hands and hitting her on the head with it. Sam and Charity watched as Chastity went down like a ton of bricks. Charity then renewed her attack on Sam, driving him back inch by inch. Dean turned around from binding Chastity's hands in time to see Charity knock Sam out of the window.

"Sammy! Shit!" Dean grabbed his golf club, whacked Charity on the back of her head, and almost fell out the window himself in his rush to check on Sam. He looked down and saw Sam laying in a dumpster, covered in trash. Dean sighed in relief as he saw Sam move. "Sam, today is not a good day to go dumpster diving."

Sam bit back a sarcastic reply. "Dean, just get down here and help me out. I think I twisted my ankle when I fell. How far did I fall?"

"Only a story or two. I'll be down to help you out as soon as I tie up Sister Charity."

Dean helped Sam out the dumpster and gave him an appraising look. He knelt down and nodded. "Yeah, you twisted your right ankle when you fell, Sammy..."

Sam heard the ellipse at the end of the sentence. "What, Dean?"

"Sammy, if you think I'm letting you get in my car smelling and covered in shit, you're crazy."

Sam's eyes went comically wide. "Dean, you can't expect me to walk back to the motel! My ankle is twisted."

"I'll get you the ace bandage from the car." Dean said as he walked towards the Impala.

Sam glowered at Dean. "If you make me walk, so help me, when I get back, your ass is dead."

Dean tossed the ace bandage at Sam's head. "See you later, Gimpy."

Sam counted to ten. One thing he wished he had learned at Stanford was how to deal with annoying older brothers. Sam was about to retort when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. He whipped his head around and glared. "Whatever you are, come out, I can feel you there."

A ghost of a nun looked surprised to see Sam. _You can see me._

"Not only that, but I can feel you as well. Can you try to tone it down? You're starting to give me a headache."

Dean looked alarmed. "Sam, who are you talking to?"

"I don't know, let me ask her." Sam turned his attention back to the ghost nun with a raised eyebrow.

_My name is Sister Margaret Rose. Why can you see me?_ Sam sighed in relief, however, as she brought some of her power back into her body. _I've been searching for so long for someone who can see me!_

Dean heard Sam's sigh. "Sam, what the hell is going on?"

Sam turned to Dean. "Her name is Sister Margaret Rose. She's a ghost."

"You're talking to ghosts now?"

"Only because she wanted to be found." Sam's voice held a surety that almost frightened Dean. Sam turned his attention back to Margaret. "My name is Sam and I'm a psychic. How did you die?"

_There was a fire in the church many years ago. Many of us Sisters lived below the church and were trapped and killed in the fire. Sisters Charity, Chastity, and the others didn't want to die. They didn't want to leave Earth, so they made a deal with the Devil Himself._

Sam had a gentle smile on his face. "What about you?"

Margaret smiled. _I accepted the fate that I was given, but... When the others didn't join me, I couldn't leave them behind. Deal or no deal. I've been waiting for them ever since._

Sam smiled at the nun. "You're tired of being lonely, aren't you?"

The nun nodded. _I don't want to be alone anymore._

Sam's voice was gentle and Dean was pretty sure that Sam could convince anyone do anything he wanted with that tone. "Will you tell me how to get your friends to move on?"

Dean looked ready to argue, but Sam glared at his brother. He nodded at key points and Dean had to admit that albeit freaky, it was seriously amusing to see his brother carry on a conversation with thin air. Whoever Sam was talking to must have vanished though, as Sam's body suddenly relaxed and he dropped to his knees. Dean cursed and ran over to his little brother, "You okay, Sammy?"

"Oh, I'm peachy. Remind me the next time that I start to converse with ghosts to stop before the conversation goes to far because damn does my head hurt." Sam said, rubbing his temples.

"What did you learn from Sister Margaret?"

"There are no bones to burn, Dean. The Sisters died in a fire. Evidentially, not all of them were at peace with their demise..." Sam trailed off, knowing that Dean would catch on.

"So they made a deal with the Devil. You said that the killings went in cycles?" At Sam's nod, Dean continued. "They have to kill children every ten years to keep their bodies alive. How many nuns made this deal?"

"Five." Sam said, and Dean cursed at the irony.

"All right Sammy, how do we destroy them?" Dean asked, ready to kick some ass.

Sam grinned. "Oh, I'll tell you, but on one condition: You let me ride back to the motel in the Impala so I can take a shower and put on fresh clothes." When Dean looked ready to protest, Sam's grin got a little wider. "We can't do anything until it gets dark, so I have time for a shower. Besides, while I'm in the shower, you can get everything ready."

In the end, the fact that Dean could never refuse his baby brother anything prevailed (and damn Sam for realizing it and using it to his advantage). As Sam dried off his hair, he told Dean exactly what Sister Ghostie told him.

Dean cocked the gun. "So, Sister Ghostie..."

"Sister Margaret."

Dean glared at his younger brother, but his hands were gentle as he wrapped Sam's ankle. "So, Sister Margaret said to say this prayer and that's it?"

Sam nodded, slipping on a long-sleeved shirt. "Anti-climatic, isn't it? That's all she said, though. Say the prayer and it should revert the spell. Then light their bodies on fire and it should be done."

Dean grinned and flipped his lighter open. "Ah, so we do get to burn something."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. "Let's go Dean. Tonight's the night they drink the blood of the dead children."

Sam and Dean entered the church as quietly as they could. They heard Sister Chastity's voice as she lead the other Sisters down a stairwell. Sam and Dean followed.

Sister Charity stood at what appeared to be altar. The children's blood sat in five golden chalices and Charity picked up the one closet to her. "Tonight, my Sisters, we drink the blood of innocent Lambs to allow us to continue our existence. Sisters Temperance, Chastity, Hope, and Prosperity, are you ready to drink?"

Dean elbowed Sam. "Ouch. How much do you want to bet that Sister Prosperity was teased as a child?"

Sam elbowed Dean and they finished walking down the steps. Sam nodded politely. "Hello everyone."

Dean looked annoyed at his little brother. "Must you be polite to everything?"

Temperance looked annoyed at both brothers. "Why are mere mortals here?"

"Well, we decided that it's time that someone put you out of your misery." Dean said and looked at Sam.

Sam began to recite the Lord's Prayer in Latin. "_Pater noster, qui es in caelis_..."

Hope shrieked. "Stop him!"

Sam looked at Dean and Dean grinned. "Just keep going Sam. I'll keep the Sisters busy."

"..._sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum_."

Dean knocked Prosperity straight on her back in a move so fluid that Sam made a mental note to ask Dean where he learned it.

"_Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris_."

Sam watched as Dean ducked andt let Temperance bash Hope on the head with one of the candlesticks from the altar. Sam grinned; that was a move he had taught Dean.

"_Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen_." Sam nodded, content as he watched Chastity and Charity fall right in front of him.

Dean grinned hopefully at his little brother. "Now I get to light the bitches up?"

Sam sat down on the steps and nodded. "Go for it."

Dean grinned. "You have to admit; the job sucks for the most part, but there are a few great benefits."

"That's odd. This actually went our way for a change." Sam looked mildly surprised as he watched a few piece of ash fly around.

Dean merely flicked a piece of ash from his coat, annoyed that it landed there. "Roast in hell, bitches."

Sam blinked. "It seems a bit ironic to be telling that to a group of nuns."

"Well, let's not make a habit of it then, Sammy."

"Nice, Dean. Real nice."


End file.
